


space invader

by felixmcshit



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Manipulation, Role Reversal, anyway i'll add tags and change ratings if necessary as the story goes on, felix is a slightly better person than in canon, manipulative locus, not really lolix but...kinda lolix, reverse!mercs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixmcshit/pseuds/felixmcshit
Summary: "you crippled all my cities to waste in desolation"A look at the mercs if Locus were the one to craft the gun.





	1. Chapter 1

Locus holds memories that never belonged to him, that came before his time. Memories of unorganized war, of a weaker being, of names that never suited him.

 

He was Sammy in his mother’s embrace, bright-eyed and naïve. He was Samuel in school, typing the once-familiar name at the top of his papers. He was Ortez when he fell into the military, a soldier without a real name, a disposable suit of armor.

 

He became Sam once the rookie showed up - some hotshot kid looking for a fight. On his first day, he saddled up to Samuel and aimed his fist for his shoulder. Once he realized his arm was trapped in a much stronger grip, he grinned.

 

_“You know, they say that on the first day of prison, you should fight the biggest guy you can find.”_

_“This isn’t prison,” Samuel replied. The newcomer cocked his head._

_“You sure about that?” He paused, and the rookie smirked. “The name’s Gates. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.”_

I pray that we won’t _, he thought to himself, surprised at Gates’ sudden bark of laughter. He quickly realized he had said it out loud, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck._

_“Well,” he said, leaning into Samuel’s space on his tiptoes and grabbing at his dog tag,_ "Sam _, I’ll see you around.”_

 

As luck wouldn’t have it, he had been right. Soon after their first meeting, they were assigned to the same squad. Gates (or Isaac, as he would come to learn) was ecstatic. Sam was insulted.

 

Unfortunately, no one knew better than him that orders were to be obeyed. So, Sam held his head high and tried to will his new _friend_ out of existence.

  
Isaac Gates, however, was a very difficult man to ignore. He would talk and talk _and_ _talk_ until his lungs refused to cooperate. Of course, nothing he said was worth the wasted oxygen: cheap jokes, heavy sarcasm, not-so-subtle innuendos aimed at the nearest warm body (who more often than not ended up being Sam himself, despite his protests).

 

Sam was never interested, would never _be_ interested, in Isaac.

 

The story changed when he saw him on the battlefield.

 

Fighting, he was something different: a man as quick with a blade as he was with his words, a man with inexplicable grace that should be impossible from inside his angled armor, a man with balance and fury and _potential._ It was beautiful, really, how he transformed into a perfect warrior. The ultimate soldier had finally found a weapon to match.

 

So, he decided to take it for his own. He stopped pushing Isaac away, learned to stay close and looming and protective, let the idea of _partners_ take refuge in his mind. Together, they were beautiful and terrible, a black hole in a sky full of stars, a disease without a cure, an evitable death wish.

 

What a pity it was, then, to see him defending pathetic people on a forgettable planet. He went by Felix, a common mercenary working for the highest bidder. Locus had been observing him for some time, watching with distaste and confusion as he took tougher jobs offered by weaker people with lower pay. It was painful to see someone once so powerful and ferocious degrade himself like this. More importantly, it was _illogical_. There was no reason to make his own work more difficult, to comply with those below him; the only explanation Locus could fathom involved Felix being weak, being _too human._ He had to understand; he had to make him realize that there is no place for sentimentality on the battlefield. Soldiers do not have time for irrational attachments. They are machines, through and through, no longer individuals but an extension of another’s intentions, the brawn to someone else’s brain. A good soldier has no room for humanity.

 

After all, if soldiers could keep their humanity, what did that make him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felixmcshouty.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Felix saw the horizon shift, he thought he was hallucinating. He hadn’t slept in two days, after all.

 

The second time, he saw a shimmer in the far away trees and felt the weight of a name he hadn’t spoken in years on his tongue. His boots rooted themselves in the ground and he didn’t rip them out until Kimball threatened to do the job for him.

 

The third time reality glitched, Felix didn’t even notice. He did, however, feel the bullet piercing his leg.

 

“ _MOTHERFUCKER!_ HOW IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK – I SWEAR TO GOD – FUCKING DAMMIT!” As hands and knees met dirt, his head whipped around and he instinctively scanned for Feds with wildfire blazing in his eyes.

 

Seeing his old partner was like having his head forced underwater.

 

The ghost of that sickly green X lingered in the air, burning itself into Felix’s retinas before vanishing into the trees. Felix’s elbows collapsed under him, forcing his increasingly heavy form deeper into the earth. He shut his eyes to the world and saw juniper against his eyelids.

 

He opened them to the dirty ivory of the med bay, head heavy and leg suspended. He could hear a frantic rhythm off to his left, a staccato tapping of metal on plastic, and lifted his leaden head only to find Kimball bouncing her knee and drumming her fingers anxiously on the arm of the cheap hospital chair, her head hung low and weary. Her voice was mute, but her body was loud, the sound of her movements banging around the otherwise silent room. The near-absence of sound hurt his ears. He coughed.

 

Kimball jumped upright at the sudden interruption. She quickly switched the consternation on her face for anger.

 

“FELIX! What the hell was that out there? You’ve taken worse attacks without batting an eye! What the _fuck_ made you think standing still was the best strategy? You could have endangered –“

 

“I saw Locus.”

 

“You–he–what? _Locus?_ As in–“

 

“Yeah. That one. You know, super tall, big X on his helmet, terrifying.”

 

Kimball let herself fall back into her flimsy seat. “What the hell is he doing here? What a fucking–“

 

_“-psycho! You’re acting goddamn crazy, Sam!”_

_“Codenames–“_

_“No, you know what, fuck your codenames! We’re not on a fucking job! There’s no one else around, you’re not even in fucking armor! Why do you insist on these stupid fake names?”_

_“Locus_ is _my name now, Felix.”_

_“I am not Felix! I have a real fucking name and it shouldn’t be that hard for you to use it! What the hell has gotten into you lately?”_

_At that, the man before him stood tall and stiff, intimidating. “You were in the military for years, you should understand the meaning of being a soldier by now.”_

_“What soldiers? We’re not in the war anymore! Jesus Christ, you sound like a goddamn machine!”_

_“As a weapon should.”_

_“Okay, you know what? Fuck it. I’m not gonna listen to your stupid soldier rhetoric anymore, I’m not going to listen to stupid orders, and I’m not gonna put up with your–“_

“–Bullshit! Is this the Feds’ way of getting back at us? Of trying to scare you off? Fuck that! If they think this will stop us, they’re even more delusional than we thought!” Kimball was pure fury now, bringing the room to a boiling point as she paced back and forth.

 

“Vanessa. Hey, Vanessa! We’re going to be fine.”

 

Felix felt sweat roll down his neck. Lying always made him feel uncomfortably warm.

 

“Fine? _Fine?_ Are you fucking kidding me? Felix,” Kimball hissed through clenched teeth, “How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“Hey, don’t be a smartass right now. Seriously, we’re fine. What exactly does this change? We’re still living in a war, we’re still fighting the feds, and we’re still losing.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender at Kimball’s sudden glare. “Same shit, different day.”

 

Kimball shook her head and let her gaze drop to the dirty tile beneath them. “You’ve got a pretty funny idea of _fine._ ”

 

“What can I say? I’m a funny guy.” He forced a grin onto his face. Vanessa’s shoulders relaxed and she let out a sigh of defeat before cracking a small smile, and Felix silently, desperately drank in what little oxygen was around them.

 

_God, they were fucked._

 


	3. Chapter 3

General Donald Doyle trembled so hard that his armor audibly rattled.

 

“So, L-Locus, I’m very glad to…to, ah, have you on our side!”

 

His voice matched his stature. His head just reached Locus’ chest, which stood stock-still in contrast to Doyle’s trembling frame. For the leader of an army, he didn’t come across as very…valiant.

 

 _“Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking terrifying,”_ said a nagging voice in his head. _“I mean, Christ, you’re like if HAL 9000 grew a pair of balls just to drop them–“_

 

“Be _quiet,_ ” Locus ground out through clenched teeth.

 

“I…I didn’t say anything? Though I do suppose I’ve been rambling…perhaps I should leave you to it then! Do remember to see Doctor Grey, though!” Before Locus could even take a breath to respond, Doyle was tripping over his own feet to get out of the room.

 

Locus let the aborted breath of air hiss out of his mouth; tracking Felix had reminded him of just how _obnoxious_ he was, and hearing his perennial whining echo in his head only made Locus want to shut him up. Felix was a florescent parasite in his metallic brain, a virus in his code; it was _infuriating._

 

Seeing his perfect weapon in the hands of weak pseudo-soldiers made something dark twist inside him. Felix was _his_ creation, hand-spun porcelain, and Locus could do nothing from his orbiting ship but watch him be damaged by toy soldiers with muddy hands. He wanted to take back what was his, break and reassemble Felix’s tattered parts, take his favorite blade and carve _Locus_ into his bones.

 

As much as he’d wished to avoid such a pathetic planet, if he wanted to get to Felix, he would have to join the fray himself. Luckily, _war_ held the same weight on his tongue as _home._

It was incredibly easy to infiltrate the Federal Army of Chorus. From what he gathered, Felix’s operation with the New Republic had caused devastating defeats for the Feds (which caused a swell of… _something_ in his gut), and they were left desperate for reprieve. When Locus appeared to them, offering those services that could actually stop Felix, their general was quick to accept. No one asked where he came from, no one asked why he suddenly offered help, no one asked how he knew about Felix; they just stared with their one-eyed helmets, releasing sighs of relief while keeping their distance, unease evident in their tense shoulders. As it turned out, Locus didn’t need to be a ‘people person’ at all; desperation always trumped logic in the human psyche. How pitiful it was to have a fatal flaw that was so easily corrected.

 

Locus shook his head, snapping himself out of his train of toxic thought. He had plans to review, commands to give, people to avoid–

 

A shrill voice cut through the air. “Locus!”

 

Armor of purple and white marched towards him with purpose. Locus almost took a double take; everyone he had met in this army thus far had shrunk away the moment they laid eyes on his towering frame. And yet…

 

“Locus! You sure are a difficult man to find,” an eerily cheery voice stated.

 

Locus tensed. “And you would be…?”

 

“Oh, how silly of me! My name is Dr. Emily Grey,” she quickly responded, “but I already know who you are, Locus.” Her voice remained upbeat, but she stood tall and unmoving before the soldier she sought.

 

Locus silently concluded that he wasn’t very fond of this doctor.

 

She continued despite this. “I’m sure General Doyle has informed you of your impending evaluation.”

 

“I don’t require an evaluation,” Locus insisted. He crossed his arms. He _refused_ to let himself be exposed to a mindless stranger.

 

The cyclopean helmet before him cocked to the side. “I don’t think you understand, _Locus,”_ the doctor hissed, her cheery voice becoming sharp. “All new recruits of the Federal Army must undergo a physical evaluation. So, unless you want to cause a _disruption_ , I’d suggest listening to me.”

 

Locus _definitely_ didn’t like this woman. She was trouble, and frustratingly, she had a point: refusing to follow standard protocol would raise red flags among his new peers. Feeling trapped, he let his arms uncross and fall to his sides.

 

Grey straightened, allowing her trademark singsong tone to worm itself into her voice. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Locus.” With that, she turned on her heel and strode down the hall without looking back.

 

She had finally left, but the air around him still felt suffocating. On some level, Locus was impressed: it seemed he had found the only competent person in the entirety of the Federal Army. Unfortunately, that very competency was what made her a threat, and if Locus learned anything as a soldier, it was that threats were to be eliminated.

 

Locus walked to his new quarters contemplating the most efficient way to kill a woman he had just met.

 

He spent the rest of his night pouring over a mountain of paperwork: personal files, battle strategies, debriefings. When he finally, finally let his eyes shut, he dreamt of screwing Felix’s bones into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to yami-sama for helping me get past writer's block!

**Author's Note:**

> felixmcshouty.tumblr.com


End file.
